1 My spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on his salvation waits.
2 Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways, Pour out your hearts before his face: When helpers fail, and foes invade, God is our all-sufficient aid.
3 False are the men of high degree, The baser sort are vanity; Laid in the balance both appear Light as a puff of empty air.
4 Make not increasing gold your trust, Nor set your heart on glittering dust; Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke; And not believe what God hath spoke?
5 Once has his awful voice declar'd, Once and again my ears have heard, "All power is his eternal due; "He must be fear'd and trusted too."
6 For sovereign power reigns not alone, Grace is a partner of the throne: Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord, Shall well divide our last reward.